


Five Years (The Year of the Tub)

by thatsoccercoach



Series: Which Door? [52]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Family, Gotham's Writing Workshop, Home Restoration, Renovations, and a bathtub - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:18:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: Renovating Lallybroch didn't exactly go according to plan.





	Five Years (The Year of the Tub)

                                                                  

When people said that contractors didn’t understand the timeline that went along with a residential project, they were not entirely incorrect. When people said that home renovations and remodels took longer than anyone planned, they were definitely quite accurate in what they were saying. The master bathroom remodel at Lallybroch may have set new records. _Worldwide_.

Their purchase of Lallybroch and the lands surrounding had come at a most inopportune time. Initially, it had _seemed_ ideal. They’d been incredibly naïve to think that. Who in their right mind bought an estate that required as much attention as _that_ when they had a toddler and were expecting a baby? The Frasers did. It had space. It was on acres of gorgeous property. They’d have room to grow.

They’d had rooms to renovate.

Jamie and Murtagh had begun working on a few things themselves as soon as the sale went through. It wasn’t as if the place was in a state of disrepair. Quite the opposite was true, in fact. Because the facilities had been used for hosting events such as conferences or (obviously) weddings, the rooms were set up to host numerous guests. The kitchen setup was superb and the furnishings high-end. The living spaces were wide open and well-lit. But none of it was set up for a family.

Because it was assumed that the building would be full of people, the fitness center would be bustling, that the ovens would be baking, and that the computers would be running in the business center, a strong heating system and good insulation weren’t a huge concern. There was heat and the insulation did its job…if the building was full. With a single family who had two small children and who was de-modernizing the facility, it certainly _was_ a concern.

The most pressing concern was the master bathroom or the laird’s washroom or whatever it was that anyone wanted to call it. The final residents of Lallybroch-the-business had damaged Lallybroch-their-home. Some of the problems were superficial while others required a lot more attention.

“I won’t move there if I don’t have a fully-functioning bathroom,” Claire had flatly stated, hands on the small of her back making her belly look even more pronounced. “I not only need a place to pee, _constantly_ thanks to your giant child, but I want to soak in a tub.”

“It _has_ a tub!” Jamie had defended. He was correct, strictly speaking. It turned out the tub wasn’t usable due to a crack, but it _did have_ one.

Year one of renovations included painting over the graffiti in the nursery and other smaller rooms left by the previous inhabitants. Claire insisted that the wallboard actually had an odd  _smell_ as well and painting didn’t change that fact, so Jamie had eventually had contractors who specialized in working on historic sites come in and remove the modern wallboard. They’d taken weeks longer than the process should have required but they’d gotten the job done. In the meantime, Brianna had been born and things were chaotic and difficult and Faith had been having trouble breathing due either to the lingering effects of a severe cold or the dust and allergens released by the renovation. It hadn’t been an easy time in their lives.

The next year, they’d worked on more urgent concerns. The nursery was perfect for their two daughters, but if they ever added to their family, they wanted to be accessible to their children and have their children accessible to them. Also, at some point it was likely that Faith and Bree wouldn’t care to share a room anymore. They wanted to make sure they were prepared for that as well. Claire’s return to working part-time posed an additional challenge in that their schedules were both strapped for time. Any “extra” time was spent with their little family, not working on updating or restoring their home. Changes to their home were slow in coming.

The third year that Lallybroch was theirs was the year they prepared for “William” but got Willa _and_ Fergus. Claire worked until only a few weeks before the birth. Jamie became Fire Chief and took on extra responsibilities. The tub was still cracked and they _still_ used the shower off the nursery.

Then came the year they buckled down.

“We really need to finish our space at least,” Claire murmured to her husband one night.

“What?”

“You know, _our space_ ,” she repeated as if that explained it all. “I know you want the original stonework to be visible in here too and I still want the bathroom to be completed. We need to at least look into making sure that the bedrooms are usable if the children ever need their own.”

“Can we no’ plan that in the daytime, _Sassenach_?” he asked, confused at the sudden urgency.

“Of _course_ we can. I just wanted you to know that we really ought to be doing it.” She sounded like their wee Faith telling her siblings what they should have been doing. Or Faith sounded like Claire. Sometimes Jamie didn’t know which.

“Can I no’ just hold my wife and _sleep_ for now?” He reached out for her across the bed and, instead of scooting closer, pulled her to him wrinkling the sheets between them. Jamie could feel his wife’s silent laugh as she settled closer.

“We don’t need to worry about it now,” she conceded. “I just thought of it because Willa and Fergus have been waking each other up at night more and more frequently. And I _really_ still want our bathroom finished.” Her dramatic sigh made Jamie chuckle.

“Aye, we’ll get on wi’ it all then. Let’s make a list in the morning of what needs to be done, then we can set a timeline for it. We’ve made lists before, aye?” His wife nodded, her hair brushing against him. “But we’ve not made a timeline or set deadlines for it afore now.”

Yes, year four was productive. It included finishing off the laird’s room by taking down the modern wallboard and sealing the original stonework on the external walls and finding period-accurate wallpaper for the internal ones, making sure that _four_ rooms were available for the bairns in case of need or desire, and the beginning of the end of the bathroom tasks.

That year was also the one where they thought Fergus had eaten a nail that had been dropped in the midst of demolition. It was the year where Faith and Bree decided to paint their room to “help” with the workload. Claire and Jamie decided to leave it. If the girls were happy with their self-made disaster, it was less work just to let it be.

The next year was “the year of the tub,” as Claire would call it for years on end.

“ _Five years_ , Jamie.” Claire stood before him in her bathrobe (and, he was pretty certain, nothing underneath) smiling broadly.

“Och! It wasna a full five years at all!” He argued halfheartedly with a grin on his face as well.

Claire ran her long, slender finger along the edge of the brand new, gorgeous bathtub that _finally_ sat in their master bathroom. “Yes, well,” she trailed off as her hand trailed along. “It’s here now.”

“Do ye remember why ye wanted it then?” he asked.

“Um, to bathe?” she smirked at him playfully.

“Weel, I _would_ enjoy doing that now,” he hinted. “I seem to remember ye wantin’ it for soaking your back when ye carried Bree though, aye? And later on again wi’ Willa,” He raised his eyebrows and waggled them at her then strided toward her purposefully, snagging the sash of her bathrobe in his hand.

“No, Jamie!” she laughed outright. “No more babies! Absolutely not!” She shrieked and twisted out of his reach leaving the sash of her robe behind as the robe itself falling open.

She stood there in front of him, smile still on her face, not hiding anything. He slowly reached back out to touch her. His wife.

“But ye _are_ happy wi’ our home, aye?” he paused to draw her closer. “Wi’ our family?” he whispered.

“Mmhmm,” she murmured into his chest. “Happier than I could have dreamed.

“ _But_ ,” she began, then trailed off.

“But what?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“But if we remodel anything ever again, I’d be happier if it took less than five years.”


End file.
